


Until the Sun Comes Up

by kinoface



Category: Arashi (Band)
Genre: 24/7 Kink, Aftercare, Bondage, Comeplay, Deepthroating, Dom/sub, Face Slapping, Feeding Kink, Gags, Hair-pulling, Kink Exploration, M/M, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Rough Oral Sex, Sadism, Safe Sane and Consensual, Safewords, Top Drop
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-25
Updated: 2015-05-25
Packaged: 2018-04-01 02:08:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,108
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4001848
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kinoface/pseuds/kinoface
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jun's fantasies revolve around making Sho hurt, but in reality all he wants to do is make Sho happy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Until the Sun Comes Up

**Author's Note:**

> A thousand thank-yous to my two wonderful betas: beloved phrenk who gave me her usual A+ comments, and gomushroom whom I've never worked with before but who contributed some amaaazing insight and really helped me shape this fic into what it is now. Thank you both ♥♥♥!!!
> 
> Title and lyrics from Jun's "Dance in the dark."

is this a never-ending story?  
let me hear it in your own words

Sho, Jun knows, has always liked to give.

It's not as if he'll do _anything_ for _anyone_ , although the habit of doing what he's told is probably so hard-wired into his personality at this point that he would at least consider it. It's just that he enjoys taking care of the people he loves, something he and Jun have in common, and he'll do it even if it involves tip-toeing, sprinting, or bulldozing over his own personal boundaries. He proves it every time he puts up with Nino's sharp-tongued teasing, every time he participates in one of Aiba's gravity-defying experiments, every time he patiently coaxes a response out of Ohno. He does it all because making his friends happy is what makes _him_ happy. That's what gets him off.

So no, he won't do anything for anyone. But he _will_ do anything for Arashi—he'll do anything for Jun—even if he hates it and complains the whole way through.

If Jun were a bad person, he might take advantage of this, and in fact several of his most indulgent fantasies involve the exact ways he would go about it. Most of them involve convincing Sho to do something humiliating or dangerous and not letting him back out when he inevitably changes his mind. Some scenarios are more sedate than others, but they all go beyond the silly stunts Arashi routinely pulls for the cameras. They're all things Sho would truly hate.

In one, Jun takes Sho on an elevator ride up to the roof of NHK and fucks him over the railing, forcing him to watch the people move like ants below them. In another, Sho says something rude to the host of a special they're appearing on, and Jun gets him to make up for it by kissing her, going down on her, letting her use him however she wants even as the cameras continue to broadcast live. There's even one scenario, in the category of images Jun draws on only when nothing else will work, where he asks Sho to help him practice for a new role that involves some kind of fighting. Sho would be outmatched, but Jun wouldn't stop.

Ever since Jun woke up this morning, he's been itching all over with excitement and anticipation. He needs something to get past the jitters, so it's the brawling fantasy that has him jerking off in the shower with one hand braced against the wall, his other hand all slippery with conditioner. In the fantasy, he's just finished tying Sho's wrists with shredded remnants of his T-shirt. They're in some dank, abandoned garage with no one around to witness Sho stumble onto the grungy cement and scrape his cheek, no one to hear him shout when Jun grabs his hips and fucks into him. Jun digs his nails in hard enough to bruise and keeps going. _Too much for you?_

Sho looks at Jun over his shoulder, spits out a mouthful of blood from his split lip, and hisses, _I can take it._

Jun's toes curl against the shower floor as he comes.

The water falling around him dampens the sound of his breathing. He peels his eyes open and watches his come wash down the drain, still stroking himself languidly for as long as he can afford it. Sho will be here soon.

It always hits a little hard right after, the guilt that tugs at his heartstrings and chases away the last pleasant twinges of his orgasm. Jun reaches for the soap and reminds himself that he's a sadist, not an asshole, and that the wild scenarios he dreams up don't inform the actions he takes when it really matters. It's a familiar mantra by now, but it's also true. As much as his fantasies might revolve around making Sho hurt, in reality all he wants to do is make Sho happy.

And what makes Sho happy is being able to help—to serve—to give.

It just so happens that Jun has always liked to take.

x

He's halfway through making dinner when the doorbell chimes. He greets Sho cordially at the door and takes his jacket, his bag, his keys to put away, points out the particular spot he set aside for Sho to place his shoes. He says, "Tell me about your day," and leads them into the kitchen, knowing Sho will follow him all the way to the stool Jun pulls out for him at the island where Jun is chopping vegetables.

He comments every now and then as Sho talks, and he's careful to phrase each response in a particular way—"That angered you" instead of _How did you feel?_ , or "You wished they'd let you keep your phone on you" instead of _You must have been bored._ He's been practicing this in his head for days: no questions, only concrete statements.

It was something they'd discussed beforehand, one of two rules that went into effect as soon as Sho walked through the door: no options, only obedience.

The other rule is that Sho can safeword out of this entire situation at any time. Even in that, Jun narrowed his options, took away his ability to get creative. _There are no special words for this one,_ he'd said. _I don't want any guessing or confusion. You tell me no once and the whole thing stops. You'll go home and we'll go through the rest of the weekend like normal. Understood?_

It was the one question Jun had asked since Sho's initial agreement.

Sho didn't say no then. He doesn't say no now.

When dinner is ready, Jun serves him a plate of food and a glass of wine without asking how much he wants of what, and he carries everything to the dining room without asking where Sho would like to eat. When they're done, he picks out a movie without asking what Sho is in the mood for—though Jun is merciful and puts on some Spanish documentary Sho's been wanting a subtitled copy of—and he pats the cushion beside him on the couch so Sho will know where to sit. He slings his arm across the back of the couch, and all through the movie, he plays with the little strands of hair tucked behind Sho's ear.

Jun is an inquisitive person by nature. He wants to know everything about a subject before he gets involved in it, wants to catalog every variable so that he can plan for it, depend on it. Even after years of playing these kinds of games with Sho, even after all the fucked up things Sho has enthusiastically let Jun do to him, sometimes Jun still has doubts. Sometimes he still needs reassurance that he's doing this for both of them, that Sho didn't make it all up and isn't just playing along out of politeness.

But the truth, clear as day now that Jun is close enough to see it, is that Sho is just as affected by it as he is. Jun has barely even touched him since he arrived, and still, just from being bossed around and toyed with, Sho's slacks are beginning to tent. He sits there, pliant and patient and half-hard for two hours, silent but for the occasional comment about the film.

Good behavior, Jun decides, should be rewarded. As the credits roll, he bends Sho over the dining room table and jerks him off to within an inch of coming.

Then he steps back and says, "Go take a shower while I clean up out here."

Sho turns around, gasping and incredulous. "You're not serious," he whines.

Jun crosses his arms and stays silent. He's so close to saying _Or we could stop here,_ but he bites it back just in time. That would be giving Sho an option. He'll need to keep practicing.

Sho groans even as he's turning back around to zip up his jeans, and he glares when Jun swats his ass, but he doesn't say another word as he makes his way to the bathroom.

While Sho is in the shower, Jun loads up the dishwasher, puts away the leftovers, and wipes down the countertops. Then he gathers everything they'll need for tonight: his keyring from the hook by the front door; condoms and lubricant from the nightstand; a few coils of soft, black rope and a roll of duct tape from the box beneath the bed.

He doesn't want to jump into anything too extreme—he has a lot planned for tomorrow—so he decides to start off with some run-of-the-mill edging. When Sho emerges naked from the bathroom, Jun guides him onto the bed, face-up, and uses the rope to tether his wrists to his ankles, then his knees to the bedframe beneath the mattress, keeping him open, exposed. Next, Jun tears off a strip of tape and smooths it over Sho's mouth, and then he reaches for his keys and holds them up for Sho to see.

He says the same line every time they do this, which is often enough that they both had it memorized a long time ago. But he says it again anyway, just in case—always just in case. "If you drop these, we stop."

Sho nods and accepts the keys when Jun places them in his waiting hand.

Sho is already worked up from the teasing before his shower and the anticipation of what will happen now, so once they get started again, it doesn't take much to get him hard, just some thorough attention from Jun's mouth. After that, it takes even less to get him all the way back to the edge of an orgasm. For the second time that night, Jun ends it there.

Sho makes muffled, complaining noises as Jun moves up along the bed, but when he gets his mouth on Sho's throat, Sho melts under his touch. When he's strung out and frustrated like this, everything about him is hard and sharp and angry—the sounds he makes, the look in his eyes, the way he moves as he tugs against the rope. But there's something soft underneath, like he's trying to show Jun that he's only struggling because that's part of the fun.

If that's what he wants, then that's what Jun will give him.

Jun plays with him, teases him, keeps him on the edge until he's straining and pleading through the tape gag. He's strong, though—he can handle it. Jun knows he can, and the keys gripped tight in Sho's fist only prove his point. So when Jun's done with teasing, he unties the ropes and makes Sho fuck him.

He lies on his back so he can watch Sho, so he can hook his legs over Sho's thighs and twist his fingers in Sho's hair and watch Sho's face, watch him set his jaw and knot his eyebrows when Jun orders him to go slow, to stay steady, to not come. He doesn't even have to mention what will happen if Sho disobeys because he knows that past experience and Sho's imagination will fill in the blanks.

Sho enjoys making others happy, and this is what Jun enjoys: taking and taking and giving nothing back, knowing all the while that he's in control. Sho has a temper, and in this position, he has all the leverage; he could easily give up on their obedience game, throw Jun's keys off to the side, and fuck Jun the way _he_ wants to. But Jun knows Sho won't do that. Sho won't even entertain the thought. He's cursing behind the tape, he's sweating and shaking, still gripping the keys so tightly that the little metal teeth must be hurting, but he doesn't falter, doesn't miss a beat. Every thrust is perfect, even as Jun drags his nails down Sho's arms and growls out, "Fuck, harder— _harder_ —"

When Jun finishes, when he stops shuddering and has regained enough of his fine motor skills to smooth his hands through Sho's hair, that's when he allows Sho to come. Sho thrusts once, twice, and finally falls apart, making a noise like his orgasm is being wrenched out of him slowly, gloriously.

For a long moment, they simply stay there. Sho props himself up on elbows planted into the mattress on either side of Jun's head, not moving to leave or even to remove the tape. Jun finally reaches up to tear it off for him, quickly, like removing a band-aid, and tosses it aside to find and dispose of later. With his mouth free, Sho drops his head down low to catch his breath, inhaling and exhaling steadily against the damp skin of Jun's neck.

In the dark silence, guilt begins its familiar, insistent tug at Jun's heart. His fingers itch to reach for Sho, but it would feel awkward to do that now, so soon after what they've done—somehow too gentle for everything he just put Sho through.

When they're this close, he's certain Sho can hear the frantic rush of his pulse. He would barely even have to turn his head to press a kiss to the corner of Sho's mouth, taste the sticky adhesive from the tape he put there.

Sho pushes off from the mattress and moves to sit beside Jun, the keyring still held loosely in his hand. He groans a bit as he stretches his sore legs, and something in Jun's chest clenches painfully at the sound of it. Perhaps he'd gotten too carried away, kept Sho tied up for too long.

But when Sho looks at him, his face is lit up in a smile: exhausted but sincere, exposing all that he has.

Jun has always been envious of the way Sho seems to drift effortlessly between their two worlds. In Jun's mind, they have their normal lives, and then they have this, and while he has no trouble jumping into this, climbing out is so much harder. When Sho smiles at him like that, everything Jun just did to him seems surreal and far away, somehow incompatible with his desire to simply reach out and feel Sho's skin against his. He enjoys being cruel, but he also wants to be kind, and he doesn't yet know how to make the two meet in the middle.

But he knows the truth, the molten core that remains once all the other layers have been chipped away: he's never more honest, more himself, than when he has Sho at his mercy. Playing these games together means stripping themselves bare and laying out all of their filthy, shameful secrets, and the most shameful secret in Jun's collection is that when he is cruel, it isn't a game at all.

And then there's Sho. When it's all over, after Sho has peeked inside and seen every depraved, foul act Jun is capable of, when they're both drained with nothing left to hide, Sho always has one last thing to offer him.

It's difficult for Jun to climb out, but Sho is always there waiting for him with a smile on the other side.

Jun smiles back and accepts the keys when Sho places them in his waiting hand.

x

The next morning, Jun wakes up early so that he can make some food and lay out Sho's clothes, an entire outfit folded neatly in the bathroom beside the towels. He'd pack Sho's lunch too if he could, but with their schedules nowadays, he knows Sho will probably only have a few minutes here and there to scarf down whatever his manager hands him, so Jun doesn't worry about it. He prepares a plate of breakfast and leaves it in the microwave for Sho to find, and he sends a message to Sho's phone before he turns his car on.

 _Breakfast in the microwave – heat for 1:15. Tuck your shirt in._ He looks down at his keys, warm now from his own body heat, and remembers the way Sho held them so tightly the night before. He slides the car key into the ignition to start the engine, then taps out on his phone screen, _Text me before you make any decisions._

It's a big task for both of them, but it's the best they can do. They are not, after all, normal people. If they were, Jun would love to plan out an entire weekend, two whole days to spend at home and play around, but right now a late Saturday evening and a busy Sunday are the most they can get away with. They might have been able to make it work earlier in their careers, when they weren't so constantly swamped with shows and appearances, but back then Jun didn't have the courage to ask.

Today, he's not asking anything. _Wear one of my necklaces,_ he adds as an afterthought.

Twenty minutes later, he's in the elevator on his way to an interview when his phone buzzes with a message from Sho: it's a picture of Jun's necklaces, laid out all in a row, with a single question mark for a caption.

Jun smiles. Sho is very good at this game.

Of course, it turns out that making Sho's every decision for him is a bit more of a handful than Jun had anticipated—Sho is admirably thorough—but it's also more of a thrill. Sometimes he has to text things like _Filming for the next 40_ or _Busy for an hour,_ and Sho dutifully maintains radio silence until that time has passed, but Jun is able to attend to everything else Sho sends his way. He becomes very good at sneaking glances at his phone and tapping out a quick yes or no or _The second one_ or _The black pair – those gray ones make you look like you have a boner, we've talked about this._ The response to that is a laughing emoji followed by a poorly taken selfie of Sho's ass in black dress slacks.

With each message, Jun feels a familiar sort of happiness swell up inside of him. It's something like pride and excitement all rolled together and wrapped in carefully hidden lust, because the thought of Sho standing around waiting for Jun to send him instructions makes him weak in the knees. When it comes to this—making them both believe, for as long as they can spare, that Sho is Jun's to command—he doesn't doubt at all.

It's not something they can do all the time, or even very often. He's not sure when they'll get another chance, or, for that matter, if Sho will even want to. But Jun is going to enjoy it while he has it.

He'd picked this weekend because they were both scheduled for relatively light days; still, Sho gets home a while before Jun is supposed to finish. He texts, _Wash the sheets._

That eats up some time. When Sho sends him a picture of the newly made bed, he texts, _Work for an hour._

An hour and three minutes later, Sho sends a picture of a notebook full of scrawled handwriting atop a stack of newspapers. Jun texts with his phone in one hand and keyring in the other, _Take a shower._ He's on his way home.

x

It happened almost by accident, the beginning of this game in which they play complementary roles. They were two stupid twenty-somethings at the time, still too shy to invite each other home, so instead they were jerking each other off in a bathroom stall at work when someone else walked in.

Jun reacted immediately, pushing Sho up against the wall and covering Sho's mouth with his palm; he wanted to hiss that it had always been Sho's job to lock the door, but he didn't dare make a sound. When the other person finally left, Sho was still just as hard as he'd been before it happened, so Jun did the polite thing and started touching him again.

His reward, barely two strokes later, was a fresh load of spunk on his jeans.

They didn't discuss it right then—Jun was too busy trying to clean his pants—but a few days later, Sho approached him very seriously.

"It's a little embarrassing," Sho said as they sat together in his living room that night.

It was the first time Jun had been invited to Sho's place to talk about the things they did together when no one else was around. He was sitting on the couch, nervous because all Sho had told him was that they "had to talk," and Sho was sitting in the chair across from him, hands clammy and fidgety.

"The thing is," Sho stammered, "I like... you see, all my fantasies..."

Jun could hardly breathe. He thought Sho was going to tell him he was straight after all, or that he'd somehow discovered Jun's own sick fantasies and wanted no part of them.

Sho took a deep breath and blurted out, "I want you to use me."

Jun's throat felt sandpapery, his mouth completely dry. "Use you?"

Sho nodded, barreling forward like he wouldn't be able to get the words out if he didn't just rush through them. "Not all the time, just when it comes to sex. I want you to treat me like—like a slave, or a pet, or a... a thing."

Jun doesn't think he'll ever forget how he felt when he heard Sho say those words. Anxiety shifted into exhilaration, so intense that it felt a bit like panic, making his heart race and laughter bubble up out of his throat like champagne that had been shaken too much.

"No, no," he had to explain, "I'm not laughing at you, I'm laughing because we fit so well together," because Jun had been dreaming about these things his whole life, and the idea that he might find someone he could share them with had always felt like just another fantasy. That Sho trusted him enough to confess such a thing is something Jun will never forget, will never stop trying to show his gratitude for.

So if that's what Sho wants, Jun reasons, it's only fair that Jun does his best to give it to him.

x

He finds Sho in the bathroom with a toothbrush sticking out of his mouth and a towel knotted around his waist, another draped over his shoulders as he lazily rubs one corner over his hair. Jun leans against the doorframe and watches him for a few moments, unable to keep a smile off his face. He's been wanting to be close to Sho since he woke up this morning.

"You did good today."

Sho turns to look at him, eyes a little wide but not quite startled. "Thanks," he says around his toothbrush.

"You were very thorough."

Sho grins. There's toothpaste smudged around the corners of his mouth. "I know that's how you like it."

Jun lets him finish up and then sends him off to the room so he can shower. As they pass each other in the doorway, Jun pulls Sho close and says, his voice low in Sho's ear, "Don't get dressed. I'll be there soon."

When Sho pulls away, he's a little flushed around the apples of his cheeks. He doesn't say a word.

Jun showers efficiently, not wanting to keep Sho waiting long. He dries off and dresses again in his slacks and shirt but leaves everything else, briefs included, in the corner to be collected later. Before he leaves the bathroom, he picks up his keys from where he'd left them on the counter and slips them into his front pocket. He'll need those in a bit.

In the bedroom, Sho is lying on the bed, legs splayed out and eyes closed, one arm resting over his stomach where it rises and falls with his breathing. Once again, Jun finds himself staring, until Sho cracks an eye open and says, "Gonna stand there and watch me all night—is this another new thing you're trying?"

Jun tsks and steps into the room. "Now I'll have to gag you for speaking out of turn."

Well, he was planning on gagging Sho anyway.

He tugs Sho by his wrists down onto the floor, on his knees, and pulls the box out from under the bed. His collection isn't particularly large—rope and tape, a few gags, some odds and ends like clothespins and a little spiky pinwheel—but it's enough for his purposes, and definitely enough for what he has planned tonight. He opens the box and pulls out a single coil of rope and an O-gag: two leather straps connected by a steel ring wrapped in leather. Sho's favorite.

He kneels behind Sho to put the gag on, and Sho accepts it willingly, opening his mouth as wide as he can so that Jun can fit the ring snugly behind his teeth. As soon as it's in, Sho takes a deep breath, and on the exhale his whole body seems to relax. When Jun buckles the straps at the back of Sho's head, he lets out a little sound, not quite a moan, but it says just as much.

Once the gag is secure, Jun reaches for the ring of keys still in his pocket. He dangles them in front of Sho, jingling them a bit to get Sho's attention. "If you drop these," he says, "we stop."

Sho gives a little nod of understanding, so Jun places the keys into Sho's waiting hand, watches Sho curl his fingers tightly around them like he's not planning on letting go any time soon. He keeps holding them as Jun guides his arms into place, crosses his wrists behind his back. Jun picks up the rope and wraps it around Sho's wrists, cinches it off, then leads the slack down to Sho's ankles and repeats the process. By the time he's done, Sho is tightly hogtied, balanced on his legs with his shoulders thrown back. His breathing is calm and even. The keys are still secure in his hands.

Jun rises to his feet and strolls around until he's standing in front of Sho. As he moves, he lets his fingers trail across the hard line of Sho's shoulders, then up his neck and jawline, to the point of his chin—still clean and dry, but Jun knows that will change soon. He cups Sho's chin, rubs the pad of his thumb along Sho's bottom lip. He takes his time looking because this is a view he will never get tired of: that first sight of Sho on his knees, tightly bound, his mouth held open as he looks up at Jun with reverence in his eyes. This is the most vulnerable Sho will ever allow himself to be, more than when he steps in front of a camera for a million people, even more than when he's lifted by wires to soar across a stadium. This is Sho at his most helpless, and Jun is the only one in the world who gets to see it.

It makes Jun feel powerful, unstoppable, and more than that, it makes him desire. He wants to tear Sho apart, claw inside of him, devour every last piece of him. He feels it in his brain, his heart, his blood, his cock, all the way down to the tips of his fingers, tingling with the urge to take everything Sho is offering—the urge to take _everything._

But he starts small.

He says again, "You did good today," makes sure to drop his voice down low. Sho preens under the praise, angling his shoulders back a little more the way he knows Jun likes. Jun pushes his thumb into Sho's mouth, past the sharp edge of his teeth and the firm leather of the gag, onto Sho's tongue: a promise of what lies ahead. "Gonna reward you for that."

In the corner of his vision, Sho's cock gives an excited twitch.

There are actually two O-gags in Jun's collection; the other one is smaller and more comfortable, so Sho can wear it for longer periods of time, but this one is big enough that Jun can fit his dick through the ring. Sho knows the difference, can feel it in the stretch of his jaw, and now that Jun is in his line of sight, his gaze keeps drifting down to the front of Jun's slacks like he can't wait for will happen next. Sometimes Jun likes to ask, _You want my cock?_ , likes to make Sho answer yes or beg for it or undo Jun's zipper with just his mouth. But, of course, he can't do any of those tonight. Questions are against the rules, and besides, Sho's mouth isn't currently capable of much—not even swallowing, really, as evidenced by the drool that's already starting to slip down his chin.

This is one of Jun's favorite parts. He loves to watch Sho realize it's happening, loves Sho's little distressed whine and the way he tilts his head back to make it stop even though he knows it won't do him any good. This is where Jun starts to feel playful and giddy, maybe even a little malicious if he's being honest with himself. He runs both hands through Sho's still-damp hair, starts to make a mess out of it, and says, "Aw, Sho-kun, your mouth is leaking. Maybe you need something to plug it up."

Sho wrinkles his nose and makes a cute, angry noise. Jun laughs. He knows Sho hates it when he says gross things.

He keeps one hand in Sho's hair and uses it to tilt Sho's head back down so Sho can see Jun's other hand, the way he's rubbing himself through his slacks. "Don't worry, Sho-kun," he says. "I've got just the thing for you."

He opens his zipper and pulls his dick out one-handed, debating as he goes. This is where he might prompt Sho with something like _Well?_ or _Go on, get started,_ but even that leaves room, creates options. Instead, he takes a step closer and tells Sho, "Lick it."

Sho's cheeks go half a shade more red. His eyes flit up to meet Jun's, and when all Jun does is lift one eyebrow, he makes a little noise, something between resentment and resignation, even as his eyes close and his chin tilts forward. He hesitates, breathing deep, and finally pokes his tongue out through the ring to curl it under the head of Jun's cock and swipe up, over the slit.

Jun runs his fingers through Sho's hair so he can cradle the back of Sho's head as he slides his dick the rest of the way into Sho's mouth. "Good boy," he whispers. Beneath him, Sho doesn't quite manage to suppress a shiver.

With his mouth immobilized around the gag, Sho can't do much, so Jun takes over, keeping one hand on the back of Sho's neck as he fucks into his mouth. It's better like this anyway, more appropriate for Jun to be the one who sets the pace, to decide when to go slow and when to speed up, when to push deeper and deeper until he's setting off Sho's gag reflex on every thrust. He pulls back after the fourth attempt, lets Sho heave in a breath as he strokes his cock, now slick with Sho's spit. Sometimes it takes Sho a while to be able to take all of Jun's cock, especially with this gag. They've really only managed that combination two or three times before. But Jun wants it now, wants Sho to feel boxed in and claustrophobic. He wants as much as Sho will give him. His eyes flicker up from Sho's face to the bed a few feet behind him, and he has an idea.

"C'mon—scoot back, up against the bed." Sho gives an indignant grunt at the command, but Jun tuts and lays a gentle swat to his cheek, something he knows doesn't hurt but makes Sho furious because he can't do anything about it. "Don't give me that. _Move._ "

It's certainly not an easy task with the way his wrists and ankles are tied, but Sho does his best to shuffle backwards, motivated by the occasional swat to his face or a tweak to one or both of his nipples.

"Sho-kun," Jun sighs halfway through, pretending to examine his cuticles. "We don't have all night."

Sho huffs and glares like he'd be snapping at Jun's fingers if he could. Jun laughs.

Finally, after two minutes of struggling, Sho is as close to the bed as he's going to get. Jun helps with the last few inches, kneels down to push Sho by his hips until he's right up against the bed, his shoulders flush with the mattress. He's breathing hard from the exertion, but his dick is hard too, precome pearling at the tip.

Jun lets him breathe but doesn't give him long; after only a few seconds, he stands up to work his dick back into Sho's mouth. Sho starts to flinch back and then makes a startled, strangled noise when he realizes he's completely caught between the bed and Jun's body with no wiggle room in between. He moans in distress, but there's nothing else he can do as Jun steps right up into his space, framing Sho's legs with his own, and goes straight to the back of his throat.

Sho chokes, and Jun retreats, lets him breathe it out, then goes in again. He reaches down to circle his fingers around Sho's throat, but he doesn't squeeze, just lays his thumb across Sho's Adam's apple and feels the way it moves as Sho tries to work his throat open. This time, when Jun leans back out, Sho's breath comes out harsh and ragged, but he's still hard, still clutching the keys, even as more spit trickles down his chin. He drops his head down like he's going to refuse, but Jun tsks and yanks him back up by his hair, slides all the way in and doesn't let up this time even when Sho splutters around his cock.

Sho sucks in a breath through his nose, pushes his tongue flat up against the underside of Jun's dick, and finally, finally, he manages to take Jun in to the very back of his throat without gagging. Jun lets go of his hair to smooth his fingertips along Sho's temple, down the side of his face to cup his dripping chin, and coos, "Good boy, Sho-kun."

He leans out halfway and slides back in, going slow so Sho can get used to it, and builds in speed until he's steadily fucking Sho's throat. Now that Sho's taking it, Jun hitches one leg up onto the bed, makes Sho crane his neck so he can take even more, even when he nearly chokes on it again. From this angle Jun only has to lean a bit to the side to peek down at Sho's hands, and sure enough, the keys are still tight in his grip.

The sight of it sparks a new thought in Jun's brain, one that sends a jolt straight down to his dick even as his brain whispers that it's risky, risky, risky. He shouldn't say it, he knows he shouldn't, but when he feels hungry and powerful like this, the temptation of ruffling Sho's feathers is hard to resist. He lets the words spill out, only barely remembering to keep any questions out of his phrasing: "You know, I could take those keys away from you if I wanted."

He's watching Sho's hands as he says it, expecting to see them tighten around the keys. But Sho does the opposite. His throat vibrates with a choked moan around the head of Jun's cock, his whole body arches up, and his fingers loosen around the keys as if he's going to drop them.

Immediately, Jun regrets it. He leans back to give Sho some breathing room, scolding himself for getting too carried away in his thoughts, and it takes a moment for him to realize that the noises Sho is making are an attempt at words. It's a slurred, clumsy sound, difficult to understand around the gag, but Jun has ordered him to say it like this so many times before.

This time, he's not ordering.

" _Please._ "

Jun's ears parse the word before his brain manages to catch up. Sho says it once, then again with more feeling, and the desperate note in his voice has Jun looking back down to the keys to make sure Sho still has them. He can feel his heartbeat all the way up in his throat, the grip of anxiety in his chest from worrying that he'd gone too far, but now he can also see how Sho is holding the keys—how he has them cupped in his open palm with fingers gently outstretched.

Sho isn't safewording out, Jun realizes. He's _offering._

Arousal and panic simultaneously threaten to overwhelm every one of Jun's senses. He circles a hand around the base of his dick and takes two steps back, afraid he's going to embarrass himself all over Sho's face if he's not careful here. This is uncharted territory, something he's dared to approach only in his fantasies—something that, even now, he'd mentioned just to get Sho riled up—and to have Sho call him on his bluff and offer it for real is hitting him like a sledgehammer to the chest.

He gets a hand in Sho's hair, tilts his face up. He wants to see Sho's eyes when he asks, "You'd let me do that to you?" He doesn't care anymore about questions, about rules—what is he even supposed to say to that?

Sho's face is red and blotchy and damp with sweat, his chin a slick mess of drool and precome. He holds Jun's gaze and breathes out a _yes._

Jun's cock twitches in his hand even as his heart staggers in his ribcage. He knows Sho trusts him, but that—that's too much. It makes him feel like a stupid, lovesick kid again, tripping over his own emotions at the knowledge that his beloved Sho-kun thinks of him that way, and at the same time it makes him feel crazed and ravenous, makes his cock pulse and his blood run boiling hot. Worst of all is that there's part of him, the part that conjures dark, violent fantasies, that wants to take Sho up on his offer.

He wants to make Sho regret it.

He slaps Sho, harder than before, and growls, "Don't you dare drop those unless you want me to stop." He gets both hands in Sho's hair and gives him a tug for good measure before stepping into his space again so he can feed his cock back into Sho's mouth.

With a sucker punch like that, he's not expecting himself to last much longer, so he doesn't even try to hold back. He fucks Sho's face, his thrusts finally reaching a crescendo a minute later to the sound of Sho's choked moans. In the last moment of relative clarity before his brain goes orgasm-stupid, another idea flits into his head, this one perfectly harmless and perfectly cruel, so he leans back just enough that when he comes, his jizz hits Sho's tongue instead of the back of his throat. He pulls out a beat early, letting the very last of it get on Sho's lips and chin.

And then, before he has a chance to drop, before Sho can process what he's doing, he tightens his grip on Sho's hair and angles his head downward.

It takes just a second for it to happen. Sho realizes and wails, jerks against the hold on his hair, but Jun just holds on tighter so that Sho can't stop the way there's now saliva and come dribbling down his chin, onto his stomach and cock, joining the mess of precome there. He was red before but now he's flushed all the way down to his chest, breathing hard and uneven like he's going to start weeping, like the repulsion and the humiliation are finally too much for him to bear.

But when Jun checks, the keys are still held tight in his fist.

He kneels before Sho, still with one hand wrapped in his hair, and hopes Sho is too rattled to notice the way he's a little out of breath. That suffocating guilt is catching up with him fast, maybe even faster than usual, but he stamps it down. This is what Sho wants, and Jun's going to give it to him.

Sho's eyes, wide and red-rimmed, flicker up to Jun's, but he clenches them shut again when Jun reaches out to grasp Sho's wet cock. He starts jerking Sho off, and can tell that Sho is already close by the way he can't quite manage to hold back the noises that are coming out of his mouth and mixing with the slippery, obscene sound of Jun's fist pumping his dick. Jun keeps Sho's head facing downward, so if he opens his eyes again he'll see what a filthy mess Jun has made of him, and then Jun reaches deep down into his own reserve of courage so that he can push out the words he knows Sho wants to hear:

"One day I'll take those keys from you. Keep you like this as long as I want."

Sho huffs out a moan, leaks another stream of precome over Jun's fingers, and Jun doesn't know if he wants to scream or get it up again or both. He works Sho's cock in fast, sure strokes and keeps talking, holding his voice steady through sheer force of will. "If people ask me about you, I'll just send them away. Or if I'm feeling generous, I might put you out on display—let them come see. But they can't touch." He strokes faster, leans right up in Sho's breathing room to whisper the next words into his ear: "You belong to _me_. And I get to do whatever I want with you."

Sho outright sobs as he comes, getting it all over his stomach and Jun's wrist and hand.

Jun strokes him through it, milks him until he's completely spent, but he's so shell-shocked that he stops there. Sometimes he likes to keep going beyond the point of pleasure, likes to squeeze Sho's oversensitive cockhead after an orgasm just to see him squirm, but it wouldn't feel right this time. He doesn't think he can handle Sho struggling like that when he's still feeling so frazzled.

He falls back on his ass, finally letting himself catch his breath. Sho beside him is breathing deeply, tilting his head back like that's going to do anything to help the way he's still drooling all over himself. He looks debauched and disgusting, covered all over in sweat and spit and semen, and that more than anything is what spurs Jun back onto his knees so that he can undo the gag, careful not to snag Sho's hair as he works the buckle open. He flings it off into a corner—it will definitely need to be sanitized, but later—and gently guides Sho forward so that he can reach the rope around his wrists and ankles.

He's glad Sho can't see the way his fingers are trembling as he pries at the knots.

Once he gets those undone, the rest is fairly simple. It only takes a minute before he's tossing the rope into the corner with the gag and helping Sho get his legs out from under him. He pushes down the increasingly frantic feeling in his chest at the sound of Sho's quiet groan, and focuses his energy instead on climbing to his feet so he can gather what he needs. He leaves Sho leaning back against the bed and returns with a warm, damp washcloth, which he uses to wipe Sho's face clean, and a glass of water that he gently tips into Sho's mouth, batting Sho's hands away when he reaches up to take the glass himself.

He usually asks, _Wash up now or later?,_ but he bites his tongue this time. Isn't he supposed to be making the decisions? Wasn't that the rule? There are pink ligature marks from the rope around Sho's wrists and ankles; Jun has put marks like that on Sho's skin countless times before, but this time he looks at them and can't find his voice.

But the keys are still in Sho's hand.

He gives Sho another drink of water, then sets the glass on the floor. Sho takes a deep breath, and wipes the back of his wrist over his mouth to catch a stray drop of water, and breathes some more. He lowers his arm and looks up at Jun.

When Sho smiles, Jun doesn't know what else to do. He feels raw, pulled inside out and exposed completely. There's no more energy inside of him for holding back.

He leans in and kisses Sho.

Sho makes a little surprised noise against Jun's mouth, but he doesn't pull away. He moves his hand to Jun's neck and pulls him in closer, and for that moment Jun feels like all he wants to do is climb inside of Sho and stay there a while, out of sight. He clings to Sho's shoulders, opens his mouth for Sho's tongue, and lets himself focus on the sensation of Sho's fingertips brushing through the hair at the nape of his neck.

This is the first time all weekend, Jun realizes, that they've kissed. They're both too exhausted to do much, but they make out leisurely, content to breathe in each other's air, to taste each other, to share this one more thing after they've already shared so much else. When they pull away, Sho is still smiling—still holding the keys.

With his marked-up wrists, he takes Jun's hands in his and presses the ring of keys into them.

He says, "I believe these belong to you," smirking like he's trying to make a joke out of it, but Jun recognizes the hint of nervousness in his voice. It occurs to him, belatedly, that making an offer like the one Sho made must have been just as much of a sledgehammer for him as it was for Jun. It reminds him of that night, when a younger Sho stared down at fidgeting hands and confessed to Jun that he wanted to be used. It was monumental then—why wouldn't it be monumental now?

Jun takes the keys from Sho, closes his fingers tight around them.

Sho isn't just being polite. He isn't just playing along.

After so many years, Jun still has doubts. But right now they all seem to disappear.

x

He ushers Sho into the shower and leaves him to soak in the bath while he makes them some food. He's had a whole menu planned out for days: sandwiches cut into tiny triangles, chicken that he chops into cubes and fries in panko, raw vegetables sliced into perfectly bite-sized pieces.

In the bathroom, Sho is still lying in the tub, his arms stretched out along the sides and his head tilted back. His eyes are closed, and the rope marks around his wrists have mostly faded.

Jun changes his mind.

"Hey, c'mere." He entices Sho out of the bath with a stack of towels and the mention of food. When Sho is all dry, Jun wraps him in a plush bathrobe and leads him out into the living room and onto the couch, and then he feeds him, piece by piece, using his fingers to pick up the food and place it to Sho's lips.

This was part of his original plan, but he'd meant to take it in a different direction entirely. He pictured himself, sitting at the table or perhaps on one of the stools in the kitchen, with Sho kneeling at his feet and accepting bites of food like a dog being fed table scraps. That's still something Jun would like to try some day, but not when his nerves are still so raw. This is better.

Sho tends to get a little sex-silly after an orgasm, so he's giggly and limp as he lies there on the couch, no longer helpless but now helplessly charmed by Jun doting over him, if the goofy smile on his face is anything to go by. He lies back against the cushions and occasionally lifts his head to accept a bite of food or a swig of water, until Jun sighs and smacks his shoulder and says, "Sit up before you choke," and that makes him laugh and laugh until Jun gives in and laughs too.

Other than that, it's calm—peaceful. Jun basks in the quiet but ridiculously exaggerated praise Sho gives for the food, and he lets his worry float up out of him, comforted by the simple intimacy of feeding Sho with his own hands. Like this, he can control without having to wear a mask of harsh, uncompromising cruelty, and that helps him equalize, makes it easier to find his way back to solid ground.

He thinks Sho's lips feel a bit dry against his fingertips. Perhaps he'll order Sho to put on some chapstick before bed.

Tomorrow, when they wake up, they'll go back to their normal schedules, their normal lives. Sho will be able to refuse anything he wants. But then again, hasn't that always been the case? Sho could have refused anything Jun had demanded of him this weekend. There were rules set in place, but only because Sho had agreed to them. Jun can only ever take as much control as Sho will give him.

Sho has proven time and time again that he'll give Jun everything.

This time, Jun finally understands.

He picks up another piece of chicken, some of the panko crumbs sticking to his thumb, and laughs when Sho pokes his tongue out to swipe them off his skin. He sets the plate aside and leans forward, returns the favor by licking the smirk off Sho's face. Bed can wait.

x

Three weeks before their weekend together, Jun found himself sitting nervously on Sho's living room couch: a mirror image of that night so many years ago, when Sho had opened up his heart to Jun and confessed what he'd wanted. Years later, it was Jun's turn to confess. He bit his lip and stared down at his phone screen, where his calendar was opened onto a Saturday three weeks in the future. In his other hand, he held his keyring, sliding his thumb over the grooves of the spare he'd used to let himself into Sho's apartment.

He turned his phone's screen off, gathered his nerve. "Sho-kun, can we try something new?"

In the chair across from him, Sho asked, "Like what?"

"Like… the kind of stuff we do during sex, but long-term. Not—not forever, just a weekend. One weekend where you don't make any decisions, just do whatever I tell you."

"And this is new?" Sho was smiling, laughing, but it was more of a tease than a jab. "Sounds pretty familiar to me."

Jun gripped his phone tight to keep from fidgeting. "I mean it."

Sho asked, "Will it make you happy?" There must have been a particular look on Jun's face, because Sho's expression was softer now. The teasing was gone.

What Jun didn't say was that he wanted to make _Sho_ happy—that the answer was so much more complicated than even that could explain. Instead he said, "It will."

Even after knowing each other for as long as they had, Jun was still figuring out all of Sho's little idiosyncrasies. There were many times when Sho teased, or sniped, or said things to be callous or to be polite, and Jun couldn't always tell one from the other. But the one thing he knew for sure was what Sho looked like when he was being completely sincere, excruciatingly honest.

He looked Jun in the eye and said, "Then the answer is yes."

Jun wondered if, years down the road, he would remember what this moment felt like: anxiety giving way to exhilaration, an uncontrollable smile lighting up his face.

They spent the next hour planning and discussing. Jun hashed out the rules he'd been thinking about, and Sho nodded along. They confirmed their schedules and set the dates in their phones. At the end of the night, Sho walked Jun to the door and handed him his belongings one by one: his jacket, his bag, his keys. Then he reached out for Jun's hand, nothing held between them, just skin on skin.

"You know, Jun-kun," he said, smiling again. "When it comes to these kinds of things, you already have my answer. You don't need to ask."

Jun held Sho's hand and smiled back.

He knew Sho meant what he said, but at the same time, what they had between them could never be that simple. Jun would never stop asking, never stop making sure, because even when the point was that he'd taken every last choice from Sho, that was the one choice he would never take away. He would never stop needing to hear Sho say it, just as he had that first night, when Sho laid bare his whole world to Jun and offered him every piece of it. Jun was still scrambling to pick them all up.

But that truth, as it was when Sho had asked if this would make Jun happy, was too complicated to say in words. The simple version was that Sho would always be there, willing—no, _wanting_ —to share with Jun what neither of them could share with anyone else.

Sho, after all, had always liked to give. He wouldn't do just anything for anyone, but he would do everything for Jun, and Jun had always feared that he was cruelly capable of taking and taking until there was nothing left. He was slowly beginning to realize—through the gentle squeeze of Sho's hand, the sincerity in Sho's eyes—that there would always be more waiting for him.

In the entryway of Sho's home, with his keys held in one hand and Sho's fingers clasped in the other, Jun said the one thing that could sum it all up.

"I know."


End file.
